


A thief in the night

by Jalec



Category: The Flash, The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sleepy things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-02
Updated: 2015-06-02
Packaged: 2018-04-02 12:03:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4059319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jalec/pseuds/Jalec
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eddie's clothes get soaked in beer during a night out with Cisco and Caitlin. He breaks into Barry's apartment nearby the bar he was at to borrow some of his clothes. He picks the wrong window and... Thallen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A thief in the night

**Author's Note:**

> I use the word 'singlet' in the story, though I am Australian so to me that has a different meaning to an American 'singlet'. What I am talking about is a tank top/wifebeater.

"Oh man, are you kidding me?" Eddie takes a step back into a puddle of the beer that was just spilled all over his clothes by some drunk walnut who didn't even stop to apologise.

Caitlin and Cisco giggle against the bar; they're both hammered and are going to be no help to the only-slightly tipsy Officer Eddie Thawne.

He does the right thing and plops them both in a cab directed back to S.T.A.R. Labs where no doubt Dr. Wells will IV-them up then give them a stern talking-to about the effects of alcohol, which they should both know, after all, because they're both practically bloody rocket scientists.

He tries to get himself a cab but all of the drivers take one look at him and their feet turn to led, speeding off up the road so they can pick up someone who isn't going to stain the back seat  _and_ inebriate the driver just with the sheer intensity of the lingering beer smell he now wears.

Eddie begins to walk in the direction of his apartment, but when a police car flies past him, sirens whirring, he remembers that little nerd of a co-worker who literally bumped heads with him a few weeks ago on their first case together.

Barry Allen. That's the kid's name. Joe is close with the young guy who knows his daughter, Iris, or dated her, or is adoptively-related to her, or  _something_ , and so had invited Eddie over to Barry's apartment to watch the Superbowl with them. It was fun, and Barry had a nice little ground-floor apartment of his own. Just around the block from here, in fact...  _Just around the block!_

Eddie quickly redirects and makes headway there instead, figuring Barry would be up this late, teetering or tweeting on his laptop, like he assumes that most cardigan-wearing, adorable, incoherent babbling geeks do.

As he rounds the corner, though, past four letterboxes for the apartment complex, he notices that the lights are off in Barry's apartment. He doesn't own a car, Eddie knows that much, the kid just seems to be  _everywhere_ , so he can't tell whether Barry is home by that. He walks up to the door and peers in the windows beside it. Nothing.

Walking around the side of the building he sees more windows, not covered by screens. One is just ajar enough that he could slide it open and sneak inside. Barry is probably not home, maybe Friday night is CSI-Counter-Strike get together night? Cool, so in that case Eddie will just explain that he - a police officer - broke into his acquaintance's apartment to steal clothes...after the fact.

Gah. Eddie looks down at his shoes. They are soaked and so squishy. The scent of the beer is starting to make his head hurt too, not because he's, like, a lightweight or anything...but because he's _totally_ a lightweight. Not that anybody would pick it from his strong appearance and bad-boy attitude. Let's not mention the fact that the beer has soaked through his pants and shirt as well as his singlet and is starting to get really disgustingly sticky.

Nobody likes that feeling. It's horrible. And with nobody around, he figures he's going to take care of the problem right here and now because there is no way he is putting it all back on and walking all the way back to his place with it all on. He unbuttons his shirt, rolls it off over his strong shoulders, slips his singlet off, kicks his shoes off and unzips his pants, leaving the lot in a pile around the side of Barry's apartment. Let's just pray no little old ladies live there too. He doesn't want to be giving any of them heart attacks.

Eddie begins to slide the window ever so slowly back on his rollers. He manages to get it almost three-quarters of the way open, enough for him to get inside, when he notices that the room he is looking into is Barry Allen's freaking  _bedroom(!)_ and that the CCPD CSI investigator is lying in his bed right there.

 _Oh, crap_.

Understandably, that's the first thing that goes through Eddie's head.

But this guy is a cop; a decorated detective. He stays cool under pressure. He has a job to do and he's gonna do it. Right. Because stealing clothes is the most practical and obvious thing to do.

He manages to hook his foot over the ledge of the window and slide himself over it without making  _too_ much noise. Both his feet land silently on the ground. He's so proud of himself. Now for the clothes. Simple, find them, put 'em on, sneak out (the door, this time), and voila; crisis averted, mission accomplished. And he might even learn a thing or two about what Barry likes. You know, for future presents, like, as co-workers, and stuff.

His train of thought is gone and he almost jumps 10-feet in the air when he hears a mumble turn shriek behind him.

" _OH MY GOD!_ "

Eddie flips around so quickly some might think  _he_ is this 'Flash' character that everybody around Central City is talking about.

"Oh my God." This time Barry's voice is slurred. " _Oh._ " He giggles.  _"Y-You..._ Hehe. _You_ can rob me, Miiiister."

Eddie's physique is admirable. Good on Barry for noticing.

"W-Wait.." He gasps so deeply, the kind of exaggerated gasp that little children do. "What kind of criminaaaaaaaallll robs a house while... _NAKED?_ " He giggles to himself. _  
_

Yep. Barry Allen. Cute little cardigan-wearing genius nerd is drunk as all hell too. Who would have thought? Honestly, Eddie thought he was an alcohol-virgin. He had no drinks in the house when they came over for the Superbowl. Lucky Joe knew to bring some of his own.

 _But wait, we've got a situation here._ Concentrate, Eddie.

"Barry, Bar!" He said rushing over to Barry who was now sitting up in bed.

"Hey, Bar, it's me, Eddie. From work? I ne—"

"Eddie?! AWH EDDIE!"

"Yea, Barry, Eddie." Despite the darkness you can tell Eddie is smiling. Okay, so maybe the geek has made an impression on him. Just maybe.  _So?_

"Eddie..! What are y—..." He pauses mid-sentence, then leads forward close to Eddie's ear like he's about to tell the most important secret ever and whispers. "You're... _naked_."

Eddie laughs. "I'm not Bar, but that's what I'm here for. I need to borrow some clothes of yours. Can I do that?"

Barry sniffles. He's so cute sitting up in bed with his dishevelled hair, cloudy eyes, and who knew he had a tattoo (on his chest, for that matter)?

"You can do that!" Barry exclaims, throwing his hands up in the air. But he doesn't mean ' sure, go get clothes, they're over there'; nope. His hands go from up in the air to around Eddie's torso and he's pulling his work mate into his freaking bed so that his body falls over Barry's and they're a mess of limbs. "Yes!" Barry says, straightening Eddie out in the bed and hugging him tightly.

Not exactly how he'd expected to end up in Barry's bed, but...Oh god.  _Oh god_. No, Barry, don't—.. Stop panting on Eddie's neck and rubbing up against his thighs.

Those warm breaths makes the hair on the back of Eddie's neck stand up. Nope. No, stop it, Barry, before... Too late. Eddie's got a boner. And his tight black briefs are not going to hold up well under that kind of pressure. But seriously, what can he do?

It's a good thing the room is dark because Eddie is blushing _majorly_. He stays so still as Barry snuggles up to him making little cooing sounds and breathing sounds, some waaaay more sexual than they need to be, and waaaay more sexual than you'd expect from a happy drunk like Barry.

"It's okay, Eddie," Barry sniffles in, but this time his voice is normal. Being drunk does not wear off that quickly...

"Barry... Are you...?"

Eddie straightens up like he's about to jump out of Barry's grasp and Barry's bed, but Barry stops him.

"I've seen you checking me out, Eddie. Never thought  _I'd_ be the one to make the move, though..." He says quietly, almost seductively. Oh how his tone has changed. The thing in Eddie's pants has too. It's gotten much,  _much_ bigger after that.

"Shh... Stay, sleep," Barry says. "I mean, if you want to. And it looks like you're quite..." Barry clears his throat, "...Happy to do so."

His hand finds its way to the spot on Eddie's torso where his abs are, and his head rests against Eddie's strong back. Yea. Barry's not drunk. What a little player.


End file.
